Guns and Roses
by Midnight Ryder
Summary: AU Nonmagic. Harry Potter: novelist who witnesses attempted murder by the mob. Draco Malfoy: son of a mobster. What happens when Draco shows up on the morning of Harry's witness protection departure claiming to be his assigned bodyguard? DMHP.
1. Guns

**Title: Guns and Roses**

**Summary: AU. Harry Potter; novelist who witnesses attempted murder by the mob. Draco Malfoy; son of a mobster. What happens when Draco shows up on the morning of Harry's witness protection departure claiming to be his assigned bodyguard? DMHP.**

**Warnings: Future SLASH- male/male romantic and/or sexual relationship.**

**Blanket disclaimer: Don't own any rights to Harry Potter characters. Never will.**

Chapter 1: Guns

Harry stepped out of the small Italian restaurant DeBlasios into the calm of the quiet night. The moon was shining high overhead in the inky sky, illuminated and serene. "Are you sure that you don't want a ride home, Harry?" Hermione asked, pulling her light jacket closer to her smaller form, "It's chilly out," she finished.

Harry smiled at his two best friends as they stood by Ron's car—Ron clutching Hermione as she clung to her flimsy spring jacket. It had been quite a while since they had had an outing like tonight, but in all honesty, Harry felt like walking in the crisp April air.

"No thanks, Hermione. I want to walk." Harry assured with a slight smile. She hesitantly returned it and extracted herself from Ron's arms to give him a warm hug. Harry was slightly taken aback by the public display of emotion radiating off of his best friend in waves.

Ever since their high school graduation; seven years ago, Harry hadn't seen Ron and Hermione all that often. He went off to university to study his English major, Hermione went off to a different one to study law, and well…Ron went with her. They had already been dating for a little over a year by that time.

Now, they have been married for close to four years. Remembering their wedding always made Harry feel warm inside, for it was one of the few times he saw them over these busy times. It was particularly hard to ignore the large bulge of Hermione's stomach when she squeezed him so.

Twins, the doctor had said.

Nonetheless, a pleasant surprise her brief hug was, even if it only reassured him that there were people out there who still cared about him.

He often found himself wondering.

"Bye, Harry," Ron said with a squeeze on the shoulder, "Don't be a stranger." Harry merely smiled, and with a final wave of goodbye he set off down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace.

Harry pocketed his cold hands within the feeble warmth of his faded jeans as he looked around at the various buildings and signs of the city of London. There were hardly any cars out since it was roughly the time of day where everyone was either tucked away in their soft beds sleeping, or out at a show or club—ten o'clock.

After a couple of minutes or so, Harry heard a crash of metal on metal. Harry stopped in his tracks and strained his ears to listen for anymore sound. Harry heard nothing but the faint breeze and a distant beat of music.

Harry had always been curious and inquisitive along with having a touch of bravery. His godfather, Sirius, had always told him that the combination would get him into trouble one day.

And God bless his soul, Sirius just hadn't known how right he was.

Although, the man didn't have much room to roll in his grave, given the fact that Harry was a novelist, and, for the most part spent his days in local coffee houses or in the comfort of his own little flat. He was a fantasy-fiction novelist to be exact.

But as Harry's silent footsteps crept forward, he thought that he heard heavy breathing to his right. In the barely noticeable alley between two closed clothing stores stood a dark haired man in a black formal suit, holding a gun to a similarly attired man's temple. The sound that Harry had heard must have been the crashing of the garbage cans lying on their sides.

Harry's pulse sped up as he watched the stocky man tremble under the cool metal; heavy pants escaping his lips. "P-please, Avery. I th-thought we were friends?"

The dark haired man gave a short bark of laughter. "Me…and you…_friends_? We are nothing more than colleagues, and it appears that the boss isn't too happy with you, Pettigrew."

Harry was frozento that spot; he didn't know what to do.

"No one betrays the boss and gets away with their heartbeat, Pettigrew. It just doesn't work that way," Avery spat with scorn.

The balding man by the name of Pettigrew began to tremble more so.

Harry doubted it was from the night's chilly breeze.

"A-Avery, p-please. The boss—h-he needs me!" Pettigrew tried, feverish panic filling his face and expression.

"He doesn't need you. He doesn't want the responsibility of your mutiny any longer. Goodbye, Pettigrew."

Harry decided at this point in time that he needed to do something—anything, or this man called Pettigrew was going to be dead within seconds. He charged forward, "Stop! You can't get away with this!"

He barreled into Avery, knocking them both to the ground.

"What the hell?" Avery shouted, "Get off of me, you fuckwit!" With a forceful shove, Harry was pushed off of the older man. Pettigrew was watching in astonishment, his chalky white face gaping.

Avery pointed the pistol at the shaking man's head. Harry blindly crashed back into him, trying to wrestle the gun from his hand. Harry mildly noted that Avery was now trying to point the gun at Harry, himself, and that he could most likely die on this cold April evening. Not many would miss him, he was sure.

Ron and Hermione would, and maybe Remus—Sirius's husband—as well as Hedwig. Harry didn't doubt that someone would take care of his snowy white cat after he died. Harry heard an earsplitting gunshot.

He didn't feel any pain, so he assumed that he hadn't been hit. Shouts filled Harry's ears and he turned to see the source. A small black sports car was pulled in front of the alley; with its window rolled down, Harry could see a woman with long flowing black hair and skin as pale as the moon up above; almost glowing. Her eyes were covered in black sunglasses.

"Avery! Leave it, the cops are on their way!" she shouted towards them.

The man pinned under Harry scrambled out from underneath him and bolted for the car; the woman sped away even before the man had a chance to properly shut the door. Apparently, they had not a moment to spare, because Harry could make out the faint sound of sirens growing louder.

Harry looked back at the wall where Pettigrew had been, and saw that he was slumped to the ground; eyes closed and blood splattered over his face.

Harry passed out.

TBC…


	2. Debriefing

**Title: Guns and Roses**

**Summary: AU. Harry Potter: novelist who witnesses attempted murder by the mob. Draco Malfoy: son of a mobster. What happens when Draco shows up on the morning of Harry's witness protection departure claiming to be his assigned bodyguard? DMHP. **

**Warnings: Slight het. **

Chapter 2: Debriefing

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"Morning, Ash," Draco smiled at the desk secretary in the lobby of the Ministry of Research. The young woman seemed flustered by the several telephone rings on numerous different lines in which she answered with a "Good morning, please hold."

Ashley Summers brushed a strand of her red hair behind her ear. "Morning, Mr. Malfoy," she smiled, pressing a flashing button and breathlessly talking into her headset, "Sorry to bother you, Trish, but Fudge, Bones, Macmillan, and six associates are on hold for Lucius. Oh! And also tell him that Draco is here."

Pressing another button she said, "Good morning, please hold."

Draco chuckled, "Too busy for a coffee break, I see," he placed a cup of steaming coffee onto her desk and gave her a mock salute, "Over and out, Ash." Ashley sent him a withering smile as he began to walk towards the elevators.

Men and women in suits and dresses whizzed by him as he waited for his lift. After a minute or so, there was a soft 'ding' and he stepped inside the elevator. Agitation showed on his expression as people kept getting off and on, but finally he reached the top floor and exited.

The hallway was dimly lit, and in Draco's opinion, looked quite eerie in all of its tranquility. He could practically hear his soft breathing echoing off of the walls. Usually, only members of the D.E. were invited up here.

At the end of the hallway there was a bulky man in a black suit and sunglasses. An onlooker would most likely find this strange due to the scarce lighting and warm temperature outdoors.

Draco had no room to judge though, because he was dressed in the same exact way, 'Our trademark,' Draco thought with a roll of the eyes. "Good morning, Al," Draco said as he walked past him through the door behind him. The large man only nodded with a grunt.

'What idiots, I guess brawn wins out on brains these days.' Draco thought. He stood in a lounge type room with white leather sofas and cherry wood coffee tables. The room had a neon blue hue, for there were two large lighted aquariums lining the perimeter. The tropical fish cast moving shadows on the walls.

Draco walked over to the mini-bar to mix himself a drink. The bar was illuminated in its own neon silver light. Draco shook his head. His father was getting adventurous in his older age. This room never failed to remind him of the Las Vegas casinos across the pond.

Within moments, Lucius Malfoy stepped out of a door at the end of the room; his pale face cast light blue, which made him look more imposing in Draco's eyes than usual. But, he mused, he probably looked the same unnatural shade.

His father's long platinum blonde hair was pulled back elegantly; he was adorned in a dark navy blue suit. Lucius greeted his son with a nod and spoke, "Draco." He held his own drink within his hand as he took a seat.

Draco immediately followed suit, these things were expected of him despite his twenty six years of age. Lucius Malfoy had a powerful presence, and with a single glance, you knew that he was not one to be messed with, for one's own sake.

"Father," Draco countered, "you wanted to see me."

Statements. Only statements. Questions were never smiled upon.

"Yes, I did," Lucius said vaguely taking an unrushed sip of his drink. "Avery is on trial today, Draco," he let his ice blue eyes rest on Draco, "He won't be returning, I am afraid."

Countless inquisitions were racing through Draco's mind that he wanted to ask his father, but he knew better and sat patiently. Draco noted the fairly amused smirk on his father's face no doubt because of his silence. 'God, what an asshole,' Draco thought.

"Apparently, he was seen doing business by a fool who prevented its completion."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "You want me to get rid of aforementioned fool," Draco said.

"Ah, yes I do. This fool goes by the name of Harry Potter—rather famous novelist—nonetheless foolish for attempting to foil the removal of Mr. Pettigrew."

"I assume Pettigrew is alive then." _That _was the loophole in non-question asking discussions. Draco had certainly had plenty of time to perfect it.

"You assumed correct, Draco. According to inside sources, the traitor was only shot in the hand. He and the author passed out just before the police arrived."

"I've heard of Harry Potter before," Draco spoke more to himself than to his father.

"Everyone has, don't be insolent, boy." Lucius said in clear annoyance.

"Yes, but I have heard of him from somewhere else besides his books…I can't recall."

Lucius only smirked, "Need not worry, Draco. Due to the date of the trial being today, Mr. Potter's witness protection departure will take place tomorrow morning. You are to be on his doorstep by sunrise, and you are to go with him to his new destination. Do you understand?" Lucius asked sternly.

"Yes, sir." Draco answered.

"You are to gain his trust," Lucius then smiled in a frightening manner, "You are to gain his love. You shall wait until further notice in which you will dispose of him." Draco nodded, yet somehow he was able to hide his expression of irritation towards his father.

Was all of the drama quite necessary?

"You are excused," Lucius finished. Draco stood up and downed the remainder of his drink before exiting the room. With a final nod at Al, he stepped into the elevator. Thankfully things must have calmed down from the morning rush, for there was only himself occupying the lift.

Reaching the lobby floor, Draco saw that it was still quite busy, and that Ashley wasn't occupying the main desk. Her assistant was taking the calls—she must have been on break.

The corner of his lips turned up as he walked towards the staff lounge. On his way, the very person that he was looking for stepped out of the lounge, and stopped right in front of him in mild surprise.

"Draco," she smiled seductively.

"Ashley."

A pause ensued before their lips were crashed together hotly, Ashley's arms wrapped around Draco's neck; his arms lifting her up as they backed against the janitor's closet. They fumbled with the door knob before it gave in and they blindly backed inside.

Draco began to kiss and suck at her long, pale neck, eliciting a soft moan from her rosy lips. She began to fumble with his pants and before long, they were down—briefs and all—and her sizzling wet mouth enveloped him.

TBC…

**Snowfire the Kitsune: I am so glad that you told me! I had no idea that I had them blocked. Problem solved now :D Glad you think so! Thanks for the review!**

**And a special thanks to: _Spell-Star, GiniXAshi, Celeste Jacobs, Princess of Mirrors, sakura blossoms4, and ShatteredxDream _for reviewing! Nothing better to inspire updates than reviews, you know ;)**


	3. Agent Malfoy

**Title: Guns and Roses**

**Summary: AU. Harry Potter: novelist who witnesses attempted murder by the mob. Draco Malfoy: son of a mobster. What happens when Draco shows up on the morning of Harry's witness protection departure claiming to be his assigned bodyguard? DMHP.**

**Warning: Worked up female :D**

**A/N: YES, people! This is indeed Draco/Harry slash, but our favorite guys have to have their fun, don't they? ;D**

Chapter 3: Agent Malfoy

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Exiting the courthouse with Ron and Hermione flanked on each side; Harry let out a deep breath that he hadn't known he had been holding. Looking at his wristwatch, Harry saw that it was 2 o'clock in the afternoon.

Several people clapped him on the back or shot warm smiles at him as he passed the departing crowd. He weakly smiled back. Apparently, he had just put away three members of the D.E.—formally known as the 'Death Eaters' for good.

Now that was an odd name for a mob society, wasn't it?

This morning he had woken up in a stiff hospital bed, his heart beat all the while being monitored on a computer screen. The first sight he had seen were Ron and Hermione's worried and bloodshot faces…

"_Ron? Hermione?" Harry groggily asked his friends. Their faces immediately lit up from the sound of his voice alerting them that he had finally awakened._

"_Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, scuttling over to his bed and wrapping her arms around him tightly. Yet again, Harry realized that he deeply missed these signs of affection that he had taken for granted as a child. He even used to consider them annoying._

"_We were so worried! Remus called us and told us what happened—he's outside. Oh, Harry, we shouldn't have let you walk home at night alone!"_

"_Hermione…" Ron lightly reprimanded placing his hand on her arm. She shot him a 'What do _you_ know?' look before returning her attention to her friend._

"_You only passed out, thank God," she breathed._

_A small smile graced Harry's lips, "I'm fine, really," he assured, "But what about that other man…Pettigrew, was it?" Harry frowned. Hermione's smiled slid off of her face like water._

"_Harry…it was brave and everything—what you did, but apparently the man you saved was also working in the D.E," her eyes were wide._

_Ron continued for her, "They caught the run away car. Avery and Lestrange or something. All three belong to the Death Eater society." Harry's jaw dropped._

"_Their trial is today…" Hermione began, but was instantly cut off by Harry._

"_Trial! But I saw that bastard…"_

"_We _know_, Harry," Hermione interrupted with exasperation, "They need you to testify. But honestly! You need your rest—not some trial to have to attend and point a finger when we all know that they're guilty!" she scowled._

"_Hermione, it's alright, really," Harry smiled weakly._

"_But still, couldn't they have waited _one_ more day? I mean, you're in a _hospital _for heaven's sake, and the trial is in five hours!"_

"_Hermione," Ron said fondly, "Harry said that he was up to it, we don't want to upset the twins, dear." Hermione seemed to calm down at this, a smile gracing her face as she placed a palm over her stomach._

"How about lunch, Harry?" Ron asked.

Before Harry could answer, an older man with graying brown hair walked over to the three of them. "Mr. Potter," he spoke, "I need to speak with you, and it might take a while." The man flashed an apologetic smile at Ron and Hermione.

Harry gave them a surprise shrug and said, "Go on ahead, guys. I'll call you when I'm done." They hesitated before nodding and headed towards the parking lot.

"What did you need, Mr…?" Harry asked.

"Perry," the man said, "I need to talk to you about your safety."

"My safety?" Harry frowned in incredulity.

"Your safety," he repeated, "Let's discuss this over lunch, shall we?" he asked, gazing at all of the people watching them curiously.

000

The waitress took their menus and walked away. Harry jumped to the chance, "So, you're saying that I'm in some kind of danger?" The man called Mr. Perry only took a sip of his coffee; with a slight wince he placed the mug back onto the wooden tabletop.

"Too bitter for my likes," he stated, ripping open a packet of sugar and dumping it in, he leaned forward, "Mr. Potter, I'm going to be quite frank with you here. You have just single-handedly locked up an active member of the D.E.—along with his partners." Mr. Perry sighed, "The D.E. is a current mobster group that partakes in a whole lot of dirty business, as you probably already know. Drug dealing, theft, assassinations—you name it."

"They are almost impossible to catch in the act though, but you," Mr. Perry pointed, "you caught them red handed. Which is why, Mr. Potter, you are now most likely ranked number one on their hit list, and they won't settle until you are dead."

Harry took Mr. Perry's speech calmly, but his heart was beating rapidly and his palms were beginning to feel rather clammy. He remained silent.

"It is almost necessary that you go under the witness protection program. It _is _mandatory that you change location…and identity immediately." Mr. Perry finished solemnly.

Harry's breath caught. "_What_?" he asked in disbelief, "Sorry, but did you just say change my _identity_? What exactly does that entail?" Harry asked in a rather panicky voice that gained more fear with each word.

Sympathy shone on Mr. Perry's face. "The program will fully pay for the move, and you will be sent an agent to escort you to your new location. They will reside with you as your protection and will be in contact with us twenty-four-seven in case of emergency. But by changing your identity, you must sever all family and friend ties."

Everything seemed to have stopped for Harry; he didn't notice the waitress delivering their food. He was only aware of his thoughts. Harry finally found his voice; eyes wide, he asked, "You mean…Ron and Hermione? Remus? Is this _permanent?_"

Mr. Perry seemedquite sadat Harry's question as he nodded, "The D.E. is a rather large society, and would take years to stop them. Even if the whole society was locked up, there would still be relatives and friends with revenge on mind. If everything were to be eventually cleared up, I do not doubt that I wouldn't be alive to see it.

"I know that this will be hard for you, but you are young and alive. You have a whole life ahead of you; a new life, a better life. Haven't you ever wished that you could start over?"

Harry chose to ignore his question. "But what about my books?"

Mr. Perry smiled, "Ah, you don't have to give up writing if you don't want to. With your talent you could be republished under your new name, only," Mr. Perry added, "I strongly advise that you stay out of the spot light. What with an accident like that, you'd have to be relocated, and then, I'm afraid we wouldn't be able to take that kind of chance of you being recognized once more."

Harry shook his head, "Mr. Perry, I can't leave my two best friends and their expected twins! My future godchildren! I can't leave my dead godfather's husband and dear friend Remus! He's only starting to recover. Don't you see? I just can't. I'm sorry, but no." Harry moved to get up, but Mr. Perry hastily grabbed his arm.

"Harry," Mr. Perry's face was grave, "If you refuse to do this, you are not only endangering your life, but your friends' and godchildren's lives well."

Harry froze, and reluctantly sat down again.

000

Harry carried another pile of his luggage to the door. Several boxes and suitcases littered his wooden floor. As he began to slide his jacket on, the doorbell rang. Harry hastily walked over to the door and began to unlock it.

He mildly wondered who this agent would be. After all, they would be living with him for quite a while. As he pulled open the door, he saw a handsome blonde man smiling at him becomingly as he extended his hand.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. I'm Draco Malfoy. I'll be coming with you to the States."

TBC…

**Princess of Mirrors: They usually don't. But since when has Harry ever been in a normal situation? ;) Besides, if I told you why things are happening as they are, then you wouldn't be surprised later!**

**And a special thanks to: _myniephoenix_, _Ashes of Stars_, _chaeli.meep._, _empath89_, _potterluvva_, and _missfictionlover_!**


	4. My Apologies

**Title: Guns and Roses**

**Summary: AU. Harry Potter: novelist who witnesses attempted murder by the mob. Draco Malfoy: son of a mobster. What happens when Draco shows up on the morning of Harry's witness protection departure claiming to be his assigned bodyguard? DMHP.**

**Warning: Mild name calling ;)**

Chapter 4: My Apologies

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Draco stood before the large window in front of Harry's flat. He saw his reflection within the glass: white button-up shirt with the sleeves pushed up to three quarters length, a pair of crisp black slacks, and a set of polished black dress shoes.

All fresh off of the clothes rack.

Sophisticated, yet relaxed all the same was the appearance he was trying to portray. He did have to say so himself; he looked good. He flattened a stray fly-away before he took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell.

Draco was more than curious to see what this man called Harry Potter looked like. His name rang a bell off in the recesses of his mind, and somehow it had nothing to do with his writing career, he was positive. The front door opened and a black haired man stood in the threshold.

His hair was rustled—as if he had just rolled out of bed. His forest green eyes were draped under a set of long dark eyelashes. The old fable of jealousy ridden green eyes was lost upon Draco as he looked into his innocent depths. He was dressed in faded blue jeans that Draco had a feeling were actually faded from use rather than bought as a style. He had on a dark grey button up shirt, and a pair of scruffy tennis shoes.

After Draco's slight hesitation, more specifically after Draco's once over of the dark haired writer, he cleared his throat and said with a charming smile, "Hello, Mr. Potter. I'm Draco. I'll be coming with you to the States."

Draco extended his hand and shook Harry's within a strong grip. Yet another Malfoy trademark. It supposedly showed strength, according to his father. And as Harry introduced himself almost meekly and invited him inside, Draco thought, 'Well, here goes another adventure in the life of Draco Malfoy.'

But as he watched Harry bend over to pick up a rather large box, Draco smirked to himself. He was going to like this mission. He didn't particularly feel like being caught staring, so he went to pick up a box of his own.

Noticing the silence between them and not really liking it, Draco spoke up. "So, Harry—may I call you Harry?" he asked as he carefully lifted a heavy box into the moving van. The shorter man had by this time succumbed to the sun's heat combined with physical labor and had pushed his long sleeves up to his shoulders.

Looking at his athletic muscles, Draco could only imagine what lied beneath Mr. Potter's attire. Oh yes, Draconis Lucius Malfoy was especially going to like his new mission. Compared to frequent stake outs in the freezing cold, babysitting a hostage of great importance, or even monotonous paperwork, this seemed like a sunny vacation.

Dropping the fact that he would eventually have to get rid of Mr. Potter, he was taking another trip to the United States of America, and getting permission to seduce Mr. Harold James Potter, novelist extraordinaire.

If someone were to stereotype his life, they would probably think him the bad guy's right hand man—son in this situation—with all kinds of nifty gadgets, evil parties, and arms full of busty blondes. When in reality, he was constantly mocked by his father, given a gun and pair of shades, always missing out on Lucius's formal affairs to complete his dirty work for him, and only took one partner at a time.

And for the record, he preferred dark haired companions. Ash was his exception though; they went a long ways back.

Speaking of partners, Draco liked both genders. A man's lean, solid body and muscles turned him on just as much as a woman's soft and supple curves. Draco's childhood wasn't ideal, and he was positive he knew why his preferences were so.

Harry interrupted his trip down memory lane with his answer, "Sure. I think this is about it. I'm sorry there was so much stuff; the lot of it belongs to my parents and godfather. Are we running late?" Harry frowned.

Draco smiled at Harry's worried expression. 'Harry, Harry, Harry, I promise you that you won't be slain…today.' "Don't worry, we have enough time," Draco glanced at his wristwatch, "But we really should get moving. It's quarter after seven. Our flight leaves in an hour." Draco slammed the moving van shut, and leaned on it with his back.

"Before we go, Harry, I wanted to ask you something."

Harry's eyebrow rose in curiosity. "Yeah?"

Draco pushed himself off of the back of the van and stepped towards Harry, closing in the space between them. He grabbed Harry's large hand, and with eyes full of mustered concern he asked, "Are you alright?"

Harry's eyebrows fully rose at Draco's gesture. After a second he answered, albeit a tad shakily, "I will be," and with that he pulled his hand out of the tight grasp and walked away from Draco; stepping into the front passenger seat.

Draco sighed, Harry Potter was going to be one tough cookie, it seemed.

000

Men in navy blue uniforms were pulling dolly after dolly of heavy boxes and luggage into the majestic private plane. Draco looked over at his newly acquainted black haired travel companion/roommate/future pleasure buddy. He was leaning against a shaded stone wall. His expression could only be described as bleak. Draco left Harry to brood, knowing that now was not the time to get to know the writer just yet.

Giving Harry his space, he walked over to the nearest uniformed man. "Pilot almost ready?" Draco asked with a sigh of irritation.

"All ready to go. He's waiting on us," the burly man smirked, "Mr. Potter sure loves his possessions."

Draco glanced back at the quiet, melancholy Harry and with a slight smile he said, "I don't doubt he does."

He had only known Harry for a little over two hours but could already tell a lot about his person. A man who kept to himself and freed himself through written words on paper. No doubt he had a rough couple of years under his belt which explains his standoffish attitude and deep devotion to what he had, whether it was his Mother's old china or his best mate's Christmas gift to him from ten years ago.

That, he had figured out on his own.

On files, it showed that twenty five year old Harry James Potter was orphaned at a tender age of four, sent to live with not the most maternal relatives, and then shifted again to his godfather whom died three years previous. Mainly, he had two best friends by the name of Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermione Jane Granger Weasley. No doubt past issues between the three over Ron and Hermione's eventual hook up. Deceased godfather was a married homosexual to a college professor named Remus Jasper Lupin who was currently on anti-depressants and attended various A.A. meetings.

Draco had raised his eyebrow at the extent of knowledge in the file on sight. Sometimes thinking about the D.E's connections even made _him_ wonder.

"Hey, blondie!" the same burly man called from a short distance away, "Ready for departure. Go fetch tall dark and handsome!" Draco rolled his eyes at the man's ignorance. With imbeciles like those, it was no wonder why this country was going to the dogs.

And besides, Draco thought in amusement, he was most definitely taller than Harry.

"Potter! Get your sulking ass over here! We have places to be, people to see, and knees to rug burn!"

To Draco's satisfaction, he saw Harry chuckling as he slowly walked his way over. With a charming smile Draco bowed slightly and extended his arm in the direction of the private plain, "After you, dear."

Harry's mouth twitched, "No, I insist, ladies first."

The burly man laughed heartily from his position of only a few feet away, "You heard 'im, blondie."

Draco sent Harry a look before slowly striding towards thebrawny man that had unsurprisingly gotten on Draco's nerves once again within the past hour. The man had a full head of brown hair, his round face grizzly with a matching beard.Draco instantly made a grab for his hair, and to several individuals' apparent shock, pulled off a full hairpiece leaving the man with a bare head of a few hairs here and there.

Draco smirked, "My apologies, Baldy," he placed the wig back onto the man's head rather sloppily and turned to face a shocked yet amused Harry, "Come on, Potter. New adventures await us."

Harry just shook his head with a small smile and followed Draco Malfoy onto the private plane.

TBC…

**ShatteredxDream: All in due time ;D Don't worry, it's coming.**

**And a special thanks to: _missfictionlover_, _Ashes of Stars_, _checkmarks_, _TragicFantasy_, _PlzNsertSN_, _empath89_, _chaeli.meep._, and_ xxFallin_!**

**As you must have noticed by now, I don't respond to each of you every time around. If the chapters in this story were longer, I'd feel more comfortable taking the space to answer each and every one of you, but alas, I've set a different pace for this story than my others. I know things must seem like an excruciatingly slow-go, but the way I think of it; shorter chapters—update faster. I think I've made my 'Intervening Fate' readers wait long enough for their next Chapter, so when I get that out; expect Chapter 5 soon after.**

♥ **Much love, **

**Midnight Ryder**


	5. Sky's the Limit

**Title: Guns and Roses**

**Summary: AU. Harry Potter: novelist who witnesses attempted murder by the mob. Draco Malfoy: son of a mobster. What happens when Draco shows up on the morning of Harry's witness protection departure claiming to be his assigned bodyguard? DMHP.**

**Warning: Overly contemplative Mr. Potter.**

Chapter 5: Sky's the Limit

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Flying in regular old public coach was nothing compared to riding in a private plane. At the head of the plane, there was a small pilot's cabin, in which a friendly looking middle aged man with short dirty blonde hair steered the aircraft.

But of course there had to be another person steering the plane, because honestly, Harry would be overly worried if there wasn't one. In fact he'd demand to land this damn plane, and land it _now _if there wasn't. But alas, the blonde man by the name of Stew was fully clad in a uniform and seemed to know his flying business.

Next, there was the main section, and it literally resembled a miniature house! There was a little sitting area with a plushy couch, wooden tables and fancy looking lamps, with a good sized television built into the wall! A small kitchen complete with fridge, stove, sink, and dinette area rested right next to it.

There was even a queen bed with bedside tables and a lounging chair to follow that. Behind the bedroom was a door that led into a bathroom furnished with a bathtub and shower, marble sinks, lighted mirrors, cabinets full of hygiene products, and a sofa as well.

Who in the world would put a sofa in a _bathroom_ of all things?

Jesus, it was a mobile home with wings! If he owned one of these babies he'd live in it permanently and fly to every corner of the world. Meet new people…see new things…

No attachments…

Just himself, and the entire sky at his hands.

Harry sighed as he gazed outside of one of the plane's many windows. Fluffy white clouds were scattered throughout the baby blue horizon. Harry let himself drift away into the sheer beauty of the sight. Being a novelist, he tended to notice the littlest things for what they were, and what they could amount to; given the chance. He had to admit, he felt calmer than he had for days—weeks even.

After a while, Harry felt the itching in the back of his mind, the kind of sensation where you just knew that you were being watched. He turned his head to find Draco's gaze resting upon him. When Draco realized that Harry had returned his stare, he smiled.

Harry shyly smiled back at him, and looked away again, returning to the view of his uninhibited powder blue ocean on the other side of the glass window.

He wondered what Ron and Hermione were doing at this very moment. Were they worried? Were they scared? Had Mr. Perry gotten in touch with them to let them know why he had just up and left, and why he couldn't contact them—or say good-bye? Or were they not going to be told anything at all—for their own protection of not knowing?

Guilt and sadness began to eat away at his insides as he pictured Hermione's panicked face, Ron's troubled eyes, and Remus sinking back into his dank hole of depression and alcohol. He pictured little cherub faces of the godchildren that he would never know. Would he even be made their godfather now? Why couldn't he have just continued to walk down that sidewalk that night?

Why couldn't he have just left them to their own business? Sure, he put them all in jail, but was it really worth it? He was going to have to live the rest of his life in secrecy from now on, and was locking three criminals up really worth all of this hassle?

Right now, all that he had was his fewest most important possessions, memories, and Draco.

Harry looked up at the lean blonde man. He was gazing off into the distance, as if in deep thought. Harry barely knew him, but he liked his first impression. He was handsome and witty, and knew when to leave you your own space. Harry couldn't say that about a whole lot of people, sadly.

He knew that Draco was going to be the only one whom he could confide in, and he didn't really mind. In fact, he was glad that it was Draco who came with him. He decided to stop sulking and get to know this intriguing man. He was going to be living with him for a long time, it seemed, so now was as good a time as any other.

Harry cleared his throat and in an amiable voice, he asked, "Draco?"

Draco's eyes came back into focus and he righted himself from his slumped position, as if being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He collected himself as he said, "Yes, Harry?" His lips formed that charming smile of his again.

Was it even legal to have such a smile as his?

"Well, in all the rush of things, Mr. Perry hadn't told me where I was going to be relocated. I was wondering if you could tell me?" Harry asked as he leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees; his hands clasped.

"Did he, now?" Draco frowned, "That man is losing his wit in his older years. No offense meant on his behalf, though; charming man. Anyway," his expression turned light once more, "We're on our way towards California—you now own a nice little flat under your new name of Harry Elmwood in the city of San Francisco."

Harry took a moment to reflect on this newly found information. So…he was going to start his life anew in the heart of San Francisco; not bad. Not bad at all. Harry could understand why the agency would want him to reside in a largely populated area—in a city full of faceless and nameless passerby.

He cracked a smile, "Elmwood, huh?"

"Randomly chosen from a telephone book of course. Don't worry, people won't mistake you as a type of tree, that—I can guarantee. But concerning other matters," Draco continued with an expression of the utmost seriousness, "You are free to live your life how you wish—make friends with whomever you please—I think you get the basic principle. But you cannot make yourself stand out in the limelight. You must remain as an anonymous Californian city slicker."

"Book publication is perfectly acceptable; on agreed terms. Write to your heart's desire, but use a pseudonym; and give your publishing company clear instructions of your wish to _remain_ as an anonymous citizen."

Harry nodded in understanding. "But what about you? What are you supposed to be doing and for how long?" Harry had been dying to ask this question for the good part of an hour. He wanted to know just what he was in for with this newly acquainted blonde man.

Draco laughed softly, "Well, according to all of the messy paperwork, it says that I'm your personal bodyguard, Harry. My job is to make sure that if things actually _do_ get sticky, and we need to relocate you; you'll live to be relocated." At Harry's expression, Draco raised his hand and said, "And I swear on my family's honor that I'll do everything in my ability to protect you, Harry."

"But, off the record, I'm here for you to have someone to confide in. I know that it's not easy holding things inside, and that especially going through something like this, you need someone to talk to. So, I'd rather that you thought of me as your friend and not just your bodyguard. And as for how long…I guess for as long as you need me." He smiled.

Harry weakly returned the gesture, but found himself biting his bottom lip and returning his gaze to the plane's window. But this time he wasn't really seeing the endless sky.

Draco had no idea how his words had affected him.

He hadn't had anyone express their genuine interest in his well being like that since his godfather died. Ron and Hermione had always been close to his heart—and he closer than ever to theirs, but there were just some things that were never said.

Harry decided it best to avoid that area of contemplation for now, and with a deep breath, he asked, "But, doesn't that hinder your life? Your friends? Your family? Surely you can't stay with me for too long."

"Look, Harry, I don't want you worrying about that. I understood the job requirements and applications before I even applied. From now on, and excuse how cheesy this sounds," Draco grinned, "My entire life revolves around you."

Harry didn't exactly know how he felt about that statement. He lightly chuckled, but then, why did his heart begin to beat faster? Was it from anticipation of the new life that awaited him, a fresh beginning?

Or was it something entirely else?

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TBC…


End file.
